


Two Steps

by emmykay



Series: Back and Forward [1]
Category: Hotblood!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Centaurs, Frottage, M/M, Size Kink, Teratophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1426459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmykay/pseuds/emmykay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's summer in Rome.  Rook is feeling the heat.  Rook/Langley. Centaur/Human.  Snark.  Porn.  Plot at very end. Some discussions of centaur sexuality, including seasonality and casual sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Steps

**Author's Note:**

> There is a discussion of seasonality as related to Rook's biology, but I don't think it falls into the area of 'heat-induced' dubcon. Rook is simply exceedingly horny here. But if you are worried or easily triggered, consider this a warning.
> 
> If you are here simply for the porn, the first scene break is your friend. Stop there.

Langley sighed. Another night in another shithole. That made it on par with most of the nights this week. The tiny room in the back of the pensione behind the ovens was the best they could afford, given their current run of bad luck. Worse, he could hear Rook in the other two-thirds of the small room stirring restlessly. A bit of a sneer came to his lips. There had been a room at the top of the guest house, far from the maddeningly hot kitchen, but Rook had been unable to manage the stairs and they couldn't afford separate rooms. And now here they were, barely a few feet apart on low benches, sweating like overfed pigs on a humid night in May.

"What!" he whispered, viciously.

"Sorry, Boss," Rook said.

Langley tried to resettle himself, but was damn hot. He shifted, trying to find a cooler spot on the rough sheets. He was not a fan of summer in the best of circumstances. This was hardly those. The windows were wide open to catch the non-existent breeze. Which of course, let in a goodly amount of moonlight. He could feel the perspiration slowly trickling down his skin. Before getting into bed, he had stripped off down to his smalls, but it hadn't helped. Maybe wearing something would soak up the sweat, be less sticky. He reached down to grab his shirt. Maybe a cigarette would take the edge off.

Rook let out a gusty sigh. 

"What! Is! It!?"

"Summer."

"That's goddamn news." Langley slipped back to his native speech patterns of heavy swears and sarcasm, having given up trying to sound as 'polite company' as Rook sounded naturally. Another thing to hold against the big bastard. "We're also in a tiny room in Rome sweating our nuts off."

"I mean, it's _summer._ " Rook paused, as if expecting him to understand.

Langley didn't. "Yeah, and?"

Rook was visibly struggling. "Summer is when most foals are conceived."

"So?" Langley found it endlessly amusing to make Rook speak plain American, and to a lesser extent, he found the shaded glimpses of Rook's thought processes interesting.

"It's when we, uh, centaurs, feel our highest drives this season. To procreate."

Langley's brain finally caught up with his mouth. He muttered, "Fuuuck."

"Exactly." 

Langley laughed. The sad comment and the moonlight on Rook's rueful, dumb mug combined to something he couldn't help but find funny, even under these circumstances. "Come to think of it, you've been antsy for weeks. Don't know why I hadn't noticed." Langley sat up in the bed, leaning up against the wall, propping his arm behind his head. "What'd you usually do? I mean, it's not like you can jerk it."

The moonlight couldn't begin to hide Rook's flushing. "There are places where centaurs can meet."

"When? We've been traveling for a couple of years now, all year-around - "

Apologetically, gently, Rook said, "Sometimes you're busy, Boss."

"Fair enough," Asa considered. "How's it work?"

"How does what work?"

"I don't pay you enough for you to be picking up even some low-class - "

Rook raised his hands in protest. "Oh, no. It's just, uh, friendly. Helping each other out."

"A little hands-on experience, then?" Langley smirked at his own joke.

"No - I mean - yes. There are kinds of mounting apparatus and some other equipment, but you need help to use some of it."

"How many times you been?"

Rook dropped his head. "Once." Reluctantly, he said, "Someone last year told me about a place."

"What do you like?"

"I really don't want to talk about this - " A different kind of red made its way up Rook's neck.

"I do. And we got nowhere else to be."

"Fuck."

"Exactly." Langley allowed himself a smile. "Might as well." He moved around on the bed again, getting a better view of Rook's face. "Talk to me."

Rook sighed. "You sure? It's not exactly parlor room language -"

"You see a parlor around here? Me neither. You're not sleeping, I'm not sleeping." He dropped his hand to his lap. "What do you look for?"

Slowly, Rook said, "I like tails. Muscular flanks. Big legs."

"Yeah." Langley nodded, fingers flexing.

"Shoulders. I like, uh, shoulders."

"Yeah?" Langley blinked. "Shoulders?"

"I really like shoulders. Just shoulders. And heads. Heads on shoulders. Hair. Hair is nice."

"Heads?!" Langley jerked upright, outraged. "Hair is nice?"

"I like to think about the person's face," Rook said, defensively. "Centaurs don't exactly mount face to face - "

"Faces? Nice hair? Heads?! There is no fucking if the person doesn't have a goddamn head! What kind of imagery is that? Jesus Christ, Rook! You're no fucking good at this!" Langley burst out, annoyed, thumping his hand onto the hard bed beneath him. He muttered, resentful, "All that book learning and for what?"

"I never said I was! You're so much better, aren't you, Boss? Huh? You're sooo great that you probably haven't had much more sex than I have."

"You know that, huh?"

"Yeah, I fucking know that," Rook snorted.

"I'll show you, asshole." Langley propelled himself off the bed and by Rook's side. "You ready?" He could tell he had surprised Rook, but there was also curiosity, and the deep ache of long-suppressed biological need.

Rook nodded, tentatively.

"You sure?" Langley teased. "Because you won't be able to do without the magic, once you've had it."

"Shut up, Langley." 

He didn't even have to see it to know Rook was rolling his eyes. "Langley, huh? Sure you don't want to call me Boss? Or sir? _Oh, Mister Langley?"_

"Shut up and touch me. _Asa."_

"Since you asked so nicely," Langley smirked, and placed one hand on Rook's side, right where the lower ribs met his upper ribs. Ah, he was sweaty under all that horsehair. As miserable as the heat was for humans, it must be worse for a creature more than fifty percent covered with hair.

Rook shuddered at the light pressure. 

"Take off your undershirt."

Rook peeled the damp garment off his upper body. Langley fought off the urge to wolf whistle. If there was anything he liked, it was good muscular definition, and Rook had acres of it. He placed a hand on Rook's shoulder, and then thought better of it. He got up.

"What're you doing?" Rook asked.

Langley went to the small dry sink and poured a little bit of water out of the jug sitting on its ledge. He dipped the thin towel that came with the room into the water and wrung it out. The water was almost at body temperature.

"I think we need to cool down a bit to make this bearable. Otherwise we're going to stick like two sausages in a frying pan." Langley took it as a victory when Rook laughed. He took the cloth and swiped around his face, neck and upper chest. The dry sink had a mirror, which showed the reflection of Rook watching him, gaze intent. Langley didn't mind. He liked watching and being watched. After he had finished, he dropped the cloth into the sink, turned and leaned closely into Rook's body, his face right up against Rook's. 

Rook flinched. 

"No kissing, then?"

"Sorry. I, uh, I - no." Rook seemed really embarrassed. Like he was being impolite. 

"No kissing at the manual labor place?"

"No. Kissing is personal." Softly, he repeated, "Sorry."

"You're missing out, but hell, not kissing doesn't bother me." Langley shrugged. "You still want to?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me if you don't like it, okay?"

Rook nodded, something else clearly on his mind. "You been with a centaur before?"

Langley sighed. "Yes."

"A mare?" 

"Yes." 

Then, tentatively, "A stallion?"

He leaned backward on his elbows, giving Rook a meaningful look. "What do you think?" 

Rook blew some air slowly out of his nose.

If that quadruped was wearing clothes, he would have his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched up under, Langley thought. _Damn it._ He stood up. 

"Where're you going?"

"Going to find my pants and get a coffin nail. Then I'm going to take the two steps to my bed and smoke it." Langley turned. "I'm hot, tired, and I don't want to go through all the niceties just for a bad lay."

"What?" Rook had the nerve to look genuinely affronted.

Langley gestured with his unlit cigarette. "Look, the conversation that goes 'have you ever been with' the way you just did - it ain't a good one. You'll be thinking and nobody fucks when they're thinking. Okay, maybe they have sex, but it ain't good. Give me a holler if you're ready to stop thinking and start fucking." He struck a match and lit his cigarette.

Langley grumpily settled himself back on his own bed. They had been together long enough that Rook knew to not ask him to not smoke in bed. After he finished, he crushed the cigarette butt into the ashtray on the miniscule nightstand. He rolled so his back was toward Rook and closed his eyes against the absurd brightness of the moonlight filling the room. He sighed, forcing himself to relax against the plank-like mattress.

"I've never...with a human. Only ever been with two stallions," Rook said, quietly, as if from far away. "Once was last year."

A faint breeze floated in. Langley drifted off, half-way between wakefulness and an uncomfortable slumber when, he didn't know how long after, he heard a shallow splashing. He turned his head toward the sound and cracked open an eye. 

Rook was standing in front of the wash basin, slowly wiping the damp cloth over his bare arms and chest, making his way down his torso. Other than teasing shadows, Rook was completely naked, his hair loosely tied back at the nape. Langley had seen Rook undressed before, of course, traveling together like they had, sometimes he couldn't help but see. It had never been quite like this. He had never so consciously looked, not wanting to see what he couldn't have.

Silver moonlight gilded Rook's wide shoulders, firm biceps, sturdy forearms, thick wrists and big hands. He could see the distinct lines of meat and tendon of Rook's barrel, along with the bone and sinew under the thin skin of his front legs. The powerful muscles of Rook's back end slowly flexed as he shifted his weight. _Fuck,_ Langley thought, his mouth drying. _And fuck you,_ he directed viciously toward his own body as his privates came to an abrupt awakening. He tried shifting away as quietly as possible.

"Boss? You awake?" Rook's voice came dangerously close to his ear. " _Mister Langley?_ "

Guess he wasn't quiet enough. He couldn't pretend it wasn't happening. "Yeah?"

"I don't want to think." 

"Good," grunted Langley, sitting half-up, mindful of Rook's head so they didn't smack into each other. "But for god's sake, call me Asa. This ain't no tea party."

"I don't want to talk, Asa. I want to fuck."

Langley nodded. He reached up and grabbed the back of Rook's head, pulling down. Langley could feel Rook's checking his urge to pull backwards, but a kiss wasn't what Langley was going for. He turned his face into the space between Rook's neck and shoulder and bit down onto the unguarded flesh. 

Rook hissed, a sharp, hard inhalation. 

"Good?" Langley asked, knowingly.

"Yeah." Rook reached down with both arms, picked him up, and took him backwards two steps to the bed. He laid Langley back down onto the much larger mattress. Langley shucked off the remainder of his clothing. Rook knelt down next to him.

Langley took the time to rub himself thoroughly against Rook, mouthing and biting his neck, shoulders and upper arms. Rook reached around to embrace him closely, huffing deeply against his neck, as if he couldn't get enough of the scent. Rook rolled them to their sides, seemingly not caring that his hooves hung off the edge of the bed. Rook grabbed Langley's thigh and draped it around his trunk, murmuring, "Your legs - your - " while slipping one hand to grip at his hips and ass. Langley rested his heel on Rook's spine, smugly noted how washing was totally worth the effort as he slid against Rook's skin, feeling the slight friction of body hair. Both of them shivered.

When he nuzzled and nibbled around Rook's scar, Rook threw his head back and bared his neck so Langley could get better access. Langley ran the tips of his fingers down Rook's back, pressing firmly against the supple skin, down the ribs, back around the withers, watching as Rook flushed, his breath coming faster. He knew Rook would like that. But how would he react to some attention paid to his front?

Langley bent his head and licked downward, sucking in Rook's hard left nipple. Rook bucked backward against the mattress, one leg spasming into a kick outward. He definitely liked it. Encouraged, Langley stroked Rook's right nipple, rolling his thumb over the stiffened flesh. 

In gratitude, Rook reached between them to grasp Langley's engorged cock. The feel of Rook's hand against him, the expanse of it against his dick, made Langley inhale deeply. Good. Yes. Oh, so good. It wasn't enough. "Harder," Langley directed.

Rook complied, squeezing, barely having to move his fist to completely cover him. 

"Harder," Langley complained. "I ain't made of chinaaaah- yeeesss," he gasped, as Rook got it right. He thrust his hips forward, offering himself more fully. Rook slowly stroked up and down, smirking. Before he realized it, Langley was going to come. "Stop. Get on your back."

Obligingly, Rook turned, his hair coming completely undone. Langley glanced downward toward Rook's underside. He could hardly have waited to see. Rook's massive cock had emerged from its protective sheath, dark red from engorgement, the end of it glistening. It was more than enough to make Langley's chest tighten in anticipation.

Langley got up and then, before Rook's questioning expression settled in, walked down to Rook's hindquarters, hands trailing behind him against Rook's hide, unwilling to break contact. He leaned over and brought up his hand to grasp Rook's dick, feeling Rook shudder, hearing the whine coming from deep within. It was nice to be with someone so responsive, Langley reflected, rubbing the hot, tender tip against his lips, licking against the underside. He opened his lips so he could take in the end of Rook's rigid cock, feel Rook's length against his firmly stroking hands. Langley would never say it aloud, but he loved sucking cock. He prided himself on excellent technique. It was a pity, he reflected fleetingly, he had lost so much of his sense of taste. Rook would probably be delicious. As it was, he gathered the musky, salty bitterness eagerly against his tongue.

He reached and fondled Rook's balls, nearly the size of his own fists. Rook made a trembling, high-pitched noise. "Shit."

Langley released Rook. He straightened, swung his leg over and swiftly straddled Rook between his own thighs. Rook was so fucking big around the flanks and hips, Langley had to stretch out as far as he could go. He could hardly believe he fit between his thighs at all. And his cock was so hot, so hard between Langley's legs, it caused his own erection to stand up harder, almost painfully. Langley spit into his hands and then grasping both their cocks, looked down. He paused, staring down, wanting to remember what this looked like, their two bodies against each other. He didn't care he was so much smaller than Rook - just the sight of him in abandonment stirred Langley deeply. Taking a cue from Rook's impatient twitch of his side, Langley began to rut against Rook, taking the pre-cum as it emerged to ease the friction. He moved almost casually at first, and gradually speeded up, bodies slicking against each other's sweat. He didn't want it to end, and jesus god, he wanted it to blow up right now. 

Rook lay gasping, one hand over his open mouth, eyes squeezed shut. Langley knew when Rook was about to come, Rook's body under his tensing further and further under him, until Rook threw one arm over his head, grabbing the sheets just above it. Rook barely managed to say "I'm - I'm - going to -" before a muffled screech escaped, his hand clamping shut over his mouth.

He watched in awe as Rook ejaculated enormous jets of white, again and again, spattering all over himself and the bed. Quaking, aching, ecstatic, sucking in air like he was starving for it, Langley's own orgasm hit him like an overloaded freight train going full speed downhill. He erupted, spurting all over Rook's belly, shaking hard enough to hurt. 

Shivering, he slumped off to Rook's side and lay there for several deep breaths, trying to recover. He managed to gather himself enough to crawl up and give Rook a friendly bite on the shoulder before he collapsed, lightly panting. 

"You sure were a better rider right now than you've ever been before," Rook commented, slyly.

"Had a better reason to stay on," Langley replied, gamely trying to stay awake. 

"More important than not getting shot?"

"Fuck yeah." Langley yawned and stretched. 

"'Night."

"'Night." The sound of Rook's chuckle was the last thing he heard before falling head first into a hard, dreamless sleep.

* * *

The morning light was cruel. Sunshine shone directly into Langley's eyes. He awoke to find that he was unbelievably sticky and gummy with the remnants of last night's debauchery. The air, thankfully, was a mite cooler than it was last night. He got up, wincing, the tender skin of his nether regions reminding him forcefully that he had been rubbing himself, joyfully, unguardedly, against horse hair and living animal hide for some amount of time. However long it was, it had been for too long. He couldn't regret it. 

One good thing about Rook's no-kissing rule. No morning stubble burn. At least, not from Rook's face. He grinned as he checked the pitcher. Very little water remained. He poured roughly half into the basin, making sure to leave some in the pitcher. Rook would want help cleaning up.

"Holy shit - !" he heard Rook groan behind him as he stirred to consciousness.

"Good morning, sunshine," Langley said, grinning into the mirror. Rook blinked, unfocused, hair wild, skin flushed and puffy, looking, for want of a better word, fully and thoroughly fucked. There wasn't much better than the sight of a mussed-up partner. Or two. Other than the knowledge that he had done it. Langley ducked his head down to clean himself, hissing a little with the application of damp against his friction burns. 

"I figure the next time, we could try something like you behind me - " He looked up. In the reflection, he saw Rook's expression change.

"Yeah," Rook said, his voice glum. He wasn't looking directly at him. "Can we not talk about it?"

Oh, no, Langley thought. He knew that voice and that look and what both those things meant coming from that great stupid bastard. He refused to believe that either of them was a victim of last night. Damn it, they both wanted it. Dumbass woke him up for it. "It was great," Langley said, rebellious.

"I just don't think - "

"Fine," Langley said. "You don't want to talk about it, we don't have to."

"It was good - better than good -"

"It was great," Langley repeated. He understood regrets, but he really didn't see the point of them. Not about this. Not between the two of them.

"Yeah," Rook said. 

Langley paused. "Fuck it," he said, finally. "I ain't getting torn up about this. You want to do it again, you let me know." 

"You're my boss - and - I just don't want things to be different."

"They won't be." Langley paused, and then emptied the entire jug into the basin. On second thought, he could just as well lather up for a shave here. 

Rook could use the washroom down the hall.

* * *

They sat, fully and conservatively dressed in the breakfast room across the hall from their room with some other guests of the pensione. Between them sat warm rolls and cappuccino. Langley had a lit cigarette in his hand, listening hard while Rook translated the Italian newspaper that lay between them, taking notes as directed. 

"You know what?" Langley said abruptly.

Pen in hand, Rook waited.

"Rome has not been panning out. It feels like Paris would be a good move. I think we should leave soon." 

The girl with the coffee pot came around and asked, in lilting, accented English, if they would like anything more.

Langley smiled up at her and replied, "Yes."

Nothing would be different at all.

**Author's Note:**

> coffin nail=slang for cigarette, circa 1888. (wikipedia, cigarette, "''Merriam-Webster'' dictionary: 'coffin nail'". Merriam-webster.com. 2012-08-31.)
> 
> References: some embarrassed sourcing of horse anatomy and breeding pages and shameless consultation of starlock's NSFW Hotblood! blog.
> 
> This was originally a scene of another story, but it sort of evolved into its own form. I thought it worked best separated out, with the original as a related story. (For those interested, this is set in 1908 Europe and Rook is a veteran of the Philippine-American War.)


End file.
